Dawning Revelations
by Nontacitare
Summary: The time of the Spring Dawning Festival has returned to Palanthas, and Dalamar Nightson has decreed that his entire household will attend. The festival could pose many dangers, however, as one of his apprentices will discover...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **_This is an unofficial Dragonlance fan fiction. I did not invent Dalamar or Jenna, or the city of Palanthas, or any other people or place from the novels that are mentioned here._

_This story is a sequel to "The Choice," but can be read on its own._

"This cannot end well," Rosina muttered as she glanced at the mirror one last time. she was dressed in a new gown, looking for all the world like a proper Solamnic maiden, though no true Solamnic maiden would ever wear Lunitari's red, nor be quite so laden with magical talismans and pouches containing spell components. Her black hair was caught up in a gold net, with the red velvet band holding it in place cleverly concealing her elven-shaped ears.

Not for the first time, Rosina sighed at the ruse that kept her full human in the eyes of most who knew her. She had discovered when she was brought to the Tower a year ago that she was the daughter of the Tower's master, although Dalamar had made it plain that he had no intention of acknowledging her nor of treating her differently from his other apprentices. Still, though he was not an affectionate father, he was an attentive teacher, and Rosina had thrived under his tutelage. And tonight, for the first time, she was grateful she was not known as the daughter of Dalamar the Dark.

The student mage sighed as she thought of the reception awaiting the denizens of the Tower this evening. This was the twenty-fifth anniversary of Palanthas' deliverance from the blue lady's forces, and the entire city was gathering to celebrate. A festival atmosphere already prevailed in the city streets, and with it a new animosity towards those who were seen as evil. The inhabitants of the Tower of High Sorcery certainly qualified in the eyes of many in Palanthas. Just yesterday, a kindly herb womann in the marketplace had advised her, "You'd best be gettin' on home, girl, and you'll be wantin' to stay there until Festival's over. No good'll come of your lot mixin' with these folk when they're all riled up.

Rosina had passed this along to her shalafi, who'd been hearing similar stories from all his apprentices, although not all warnings had been delivered in so kindly a fashion. He had forbidden Rosina and Thomas, the junior residents of the Tower, from going out alone, and recommended the same to his older apprentices. However, Dalamar Nightson had been adamant that his entire household be present at the celebration that was to be the culmination of the festival. "This Tower is an institution of learning within the Inner Circle of Palanthas. We must insist on the respect due us. I expect to see you all," and he paused to look pointedly at both Rosina and Will, who had been arguing fervently that the mages should keep a low profile, "present and presentable. Besides," he added fiercely, "the blue lady fell by my hand. Those fools on the Solamnic council tend to forget that when they pass judgment on me."

The student mage let out a deep breath as she swept her red cloak over her shoulders and fastened it with the gold broach that had been a gift from her employer, Jenna. She was alone, her private room being the sole privilege afforded to her because of her gender. It was a privilege she would soon lose, for Master Dalamar planned to take on three new apprentices, one of whom would become Rosina's new roommate.

Well, she didn't want to be late. Her shalafi's study was five flights up and on the other side of the Tower. Rosina decided to teleport rather than walk, a breach of Tower custom (though not of rule) that Rosina suspected would be tolerated this evening. It was better to arrive looking her best than out of breath and with a sweat-stained gown.

Rosina closed her eyes and began the chant. It was a spell normally prohibited to those who had not yet taken the Test, but Master Dalamar had exempted both Rosina and Thomas, who would be prisoners in the Tower if they couldn't teleport past Shoikan Grove.

Rosina felt herself arrive and opened her eyes. The exotic scent of a Silvanesti incense was faintly discernible, and the room was brightly lit not only by the fireplace but also by torches in the stone walls. The young woman quickly stepped back from the spiral on the rug in the center of the room which was the designated spot for all teleporting visitors. Her eyes glanced around the room as she noted the two senior apprentices and sought her shalafi.

"Welcome, apprentice," Dalamar Nightson spoke in Solamnic.

"My lord," she replied in the same tongue, placing her hands in her sleeves and bowing respectfully.

Her master surprised her then, coming forward and giving her the elven kiss of peace on both cheeks. He stepped back with his hands on her shoulders. "You look lovely, my dear. Jenna has done well."

"Thank you, my lord," the young mage answered, keeping a wry smile to herself. The apprentices usually wore simple robes denoting their status, but Master Dalamar had expressed his wish that all living under his roof dress befittingly as members of the household of a powerful lord of Palanthas. Since Rosina supposedly had no family, and no source of income beyond the small wage she earned from her work at the mageware shop, Dalamar had given her a pouch of coins with strict instructions to get Jenna's assistance in commissioning a new gown. he had also given money to the other "stray" at the Tower, his senior apprentice Jerron who could not afford the apprentice fees and was there on Master Dalamar's benevolence. However, Rosina could not imagine that her shalafi had demanded that Jerron get assistance in commissioning his robe.

Rosina saw that she was neither the first nor the last to arrive. It was odd seeing the others in their finery. Not so much her master, for as head of his order he frequently attended formal gatherings, but the other apprentices were usually garbed practically in plain robes or tunic and trousers, with very little in external trappings to distinguish them. This evening all were transformed. It was as if they were characters costumed for a play, although the effect was far more subtle.

If Rosina were dressed as a Solamnic maiden, Dalamar Nightson appeared ever inch a highborn Silvanesti elf lord in his silken robe and cloak, although no true elf lord would wear Nuitari's black. Jerron, in contrast, looked the part of a classic dark mage, with a heavy velvet black robe that came to the floor. Alvar appeared vaguely sinister, dressed in jet-black tunic and trousers, with a black cap tilted rakishly on his head. It was whispered among the other apprentices that he had dealings with the shadowy Thieves' Guild.

Rosina noticed that both apprentices were eying her with raised eyebrows and some amusement. Normally they paid scant attention to the young student, but tonight she must seem as different to them as they did to her.

Alvar went so far as to step forward, a small smile on his lips, and say in Common while sketching a mocking bow, "You grace us with your beauty, Mistress." He reached for her hand.

"In Solamnic, please, apprentice," Dalamar reminded Alvar, and then chided, "Rosina," as the student mage took an instinctive step back from the older apprentice. Rosina much preferred being beneath Alvar's notice. It seemed safer, somehow.

"Forgive me, Master," Alvar replied, and returned to stand next to Jerron. They snickered to each other at Rosina's immaturity, and Rosina could tell her Master was mildly exasperated, the formality of the tableaux momentarily suspended. The young woman, however, felt grateful as things returned to normal, at least for the moment. She was very conscious of being the only red robe in the room, and would be relieved when the others arrived.

The air shifted suddenly, so imperceptibly that only a mage wold notice. An exotic perfume filled the air, at first overpowering and then blending with the scent of incense to create a new fragrance. A red-robed wizardess appeared in the center of the room. Jenna had arrived.

Though their robes had literally been cut from the same cloth, Jenna having commissioned both from the same dressmaker, Rosina and Jenna could not have looked more different. Where Rosina's garb gave her an innocent appearance, Jenna looked positively regal. Her robe, or dress, was fitted to her form and the points of her sleeves touched the ground. The hem, neckline, and sleeves were embroidered with gold thread, and a gold circlet sat atop intricately woven braids. She wore gold hoops in her ears, and a delicately crafted jeweled necklace about her throat.

The Master of the Tower took the wizardess' hands in his own and drew her from the center of the rug. "You are truly a vision, my lady," he murmured, as he brought her hands to his lips.

"If people are to talk, we should at the least give them something memorable to talk about," Jenna responded.

For a long moment it seemed as if the two wizards had forgotten that there were others in the room. Rosina looked away, not wanting to intrude on their privacy, while Jerron shifted uncomfortably. For Rosina, who had only known Jenna as her employer and mentor, the affair between her Master and the shopkeeper seemed sweet, but she knew that Jerron and Alvar, who had for a time been apprentices with Jenna, viewed the relationship as a betrayal. Of course, this was only ever discussed behind their Master's back.

Dalamar smiled at his lover. ¨Something tells me that we will not need to make any effort to accomplish exactly that." He let go of her hands, and she turned to survey the room.

It was Alvar who stepped forward first. He swept the wizardess a courtly bow and then kissed her hand. "You honor the Tower with your presence, Mistress," he said, with only a hint of mockery in his voice.

"Thank you, Alvar," she nodded, dismissing him.

She turned toward Jerron, who gave her a curt bow. Her nod to him was just as curt.

As her eyes fell on Rosina, the student mage folded her arms in her sleeves and bowed respectfully. Jenna strode over to the girl and placed her hands on Rosina´s shoulders. "Rosina, dear child, you look lovely."

"Thank you, Mistress," Rosina murmured formally. But when Jenna began fussing with Rosina's collar, the young mage whispered in irritation, "Believe it or not, I have been dressing myself for some time now."

Jenna cocked an eyebrow in amusement, and a low chuckle from across the room told Rosina that her shalafi had overheard. "I can be such a busybody at times, can't I?" Jenna whispered back. "I'll try to behave myself." She returned to Dalamar's side and murmured something in his ear that caused the elf to smile.

Rosina sighed. She was certainly grateful for Jenna's help and guidance, but the anticipation of this evening was putting her on edge. Rosina didn't know who she was expected to be. She had not felt this uncertain since she had first come to the Tower. In that time, the young woman had blossomed into her role, not only as a student of the Tower, but as a liked and respected citizen of Palanthas. Rosina could not shake the feeling that his evening's performance might very well change all that.

The air shimmered again, and Rosina's fellow student Thomas appeared. Gentle, unassuming Thomas, twenty years old, tonight looked every inch the nobleman's son he was. Like Rosina, he had not yet been Tested, but wore black in deference to his father, a wizard of the Conclave and a baron in Nordmaar. The whispered consensus of the other apprentices was that Thomas would not Test black. Thomas was dressed in tunic and trousers, of a fine but not ostentatious cut. His gold-trimmed black cloak came to his knees, and a black velvet cap adorned his dark curls. He swept a low courtly bow to his master. "My lord, I hope this evening finds you well."

"And you, apprentice," Dalamar replied. He approached Thomas and gave him the elven kiss of peace. "You do your father proud."

"Thank you, master." Rosina knew that Thomas and his father did not get along. In his own way, Thomas was as much a stray taken in by Dalamar as Rosina and Jerron were in theirs. Rosina was aware of how hard Thomas strove for his master's approval.

The student mage then turned to Jenna and extended his hand. She placed her hand in his and the young man brought it to his lips, bowing formally and with none of the mockery evinced by Alvar. The sorceress inclined her head graciously. Thomas continued making his rounds, greeting Jerron and Alvar in turn, clasping each by the arm. The older apprentices, for their part, seemed surprised and a bit amused at the young student acting their equal.

Thomas startled Rosina by kissing her hand. "You look very pretty tonight, Rosina," he said. Rosina did not know how to respond to this suddenly grown-up and seemingly powerful Thomas, so different from her quiet, introspective ally and fellow student. ¨You're supposed to curtsy," Thomas whispered, temporarily shattering the formal mood and causing ripples of laughter through the rest of the room. Rosina hastily dropped a curtsy, and Thomas winked at her before going to stand with the other black-robed apprentices.

"But where is your roommate?" Dalamar asked. "I would have expected his arrival by now."

"I believe he is getting ready, master," Thomas responded in a voice so carefully neutral that Rosina wasn't the only one wondering exactly what Will was planning.

The air shimmered yet again, and the last apprentice arrived. Will stood in the center of the room, dressed in his plain, everyday red robe, in stark contrast to the formal garb of those around him.

Dalamar coldly looked at the newest arrival. "Apprentice."

"Master," Will responded calmly.

"You look...adequate."

Jerron, Alvar, Thomas and Rosina all burst into laughter at the difference in their master's comments towards Will in comparison with the lavish praise he'd heaped on the other apprentices. Even Jenna hid a smile behind her hand.

"Thank you, master," Will answered. Rosina envied his courage. By dressing as he did, Will was presenting himself as a lowly apprentice who must obey his master's wishes, even if he disagreed. He was effectively, if not openly, declaring that Dalamar was wrong to intrude on the Spring Dawning festival. Of course, unlike Rosina, Will had a family to take him in if he were dismissed from the Tower. Rosina couldn't afford to lose Dalamar's regard.

"I will deal with you later," Dalamar said to Will in a low voice. Will's composure slipped momentarily, and Rosina didn't blame him. He had, after all, disobeyed the Head of the Order of Black Robes, who was not one to brook disobedience.

"And now, apprentices, it is time for us to be off. Remember, each on of you represents the Tower of Palanthas, and I expect all of you to behave accordingly. We bring prestige to this city, and have every right to attend its celebrations. It is your responsibility to remind the good citizens of that. Remember, speak Solamnic at all times, remain courteous in all your encounters tonight, and show no fear, anger, or disrespect. I expect all of you -" and he fixed his gaze on each apprentice in turn - "to do honor to the Tower."

With that, he extended his arm to Jenna, saying, "Shall we be off, my dear?"

"With pleasure," she replied, taking his arm. Dalamar began a low chant, and the couple vanished.

"Shall we be off, my dear?" Will mimicked in an almost flawless Silvanesti-accented Solamnic while extending his arm to Thomas.

"With pleasure," Thomas answered in falsetto, and in a moment they too vanished to the laughter of the other apprentices.

Rosina hastily recited the chant that would take her to the gates of the Tower below. The sudden combination of the early spring night air and the dread chill of the grove caused Rosina to shiver, and she drew her cloak closer around her as she stepped away from the gate. There were two carriages waiting, the horses stamping nervously, no doubt spooked by the nearness of Shoiken Grove. The student mage wondered how much her master was paying the carriage drivers to entice them to pick up such infamous passengers and at such a grim location. While there had been a religious ceremony at the Plaza earlier in the day, the celebration was to be held in the market square near the Bay of Branchala. Lord Dalamar's household would be arriving in style.

As soon as all apprentices were accounted for, Dalamar invited Jerron to travel with him and his lady in the first carriage. While each of the dark elf's students were the best from where they'd come, they all knew that Jerron was the best of them all.

When Rosina turned to enter the second carriage, she was surprised when Thomas offered her his hand. "We follow the forms tonight," he said quietly. She allowed him to help her into the carriage, not for the first time wondering if she'd be able to avoid embarrassing her shalafi this evening.

Thomas entered the carriage and sat down beside Rosina. Will and Alvar followed, seating themselves on the wooden bench opposite the students. As soon as the carriage began to move, Alvar said to Will, "You're a braver man than I, my friend. He'll have you scrubbing every step in the Tower."

"If he doesn't expel you from the Tower outright," Thomas muttered darkly.

"He's not going to expel me from the Tower for a sartorial transgression; and Alvar, you needn't worry that I'll usurp your role as master troublemaker."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," laughed Alvar. "I saw the look our master gave you. I don't understand you - either one of you," he added, looking at Rosina as well as Will. "Why the reluctance to go to this celebration? You are both more integrated into respectable Palanthas society than the rest of us combined. I'd think you'd have the least reason to avoid the Spring Dawning Festival."

"I was warned outright by a cloth merchant's wife, a cleric of Paladine, and several participants in the disputations that we should all stay away for our own good," Rosina interjected.

"Oh, well, if this is the consensus of the marketplace disputations, we should all take heed," Alvar returned sarcastically. The marketplace of Palanthas was notorious as a place where anyone could try to convince passersby of any theory or belief, no matter how outrageous. Apprentices, acolytes, and junior ascetics all had their season of participating in the debates, much to the chagrin of their mentors. Currently Rosina was the only student of Dalamar Nightson who attended, but she was by no means the first.

"Will is right," persisted Rosina. "Many still remember the Blue Lady's attack on Palanthas, and still mourn the friends and family they lost. Rightly or wrongly, they see Master Dalamar allied with the dragonarmies. Our presence tonight will be seen as gloating."

"But don't you see?" Thomas spoke up. "That's precisely why we have to be there - to give the lie to the notion that Master Dalamar - _and by extension the Tower and all of us in it - _had anything to do with Highlord Kitiara Uth Matar."

"Oh, he had something to do with her, all right," said Alvar. "He's the one who killed her, in the very Tower she attacked."

"That happened _in _the Tower?" Rosina asked, appalled.

"You know that room in the North Wing that we're forbidden to even approach on pain of death?" Rosina nodded. "That was the study of Raistlin Majere, not coincidentally the brother of Kitiara Uth Matar. The night that Majere was to return, and our master was prepared to stop him, Uth Matar gained access to the Tower with the intent to murder Master Dalamar. He felled her with a fire-ball, splattering her guts all over the back wall of her own brother's study. I've seen what fire-balls can do to a person, but never in such close quarters. I'd imagine Master Dalamar had the body removed, but did he get everything? Blood in the rug, viscera dripping from the flagstones, bits of bone scattered here and there - they're all still there behind that locked door, under the very same roof that shelters us each night. I wonder if the spectral guardian keeps out flies?

"Why, Rosina, you've gone pale," Alvar said with mocking solicitude. "Does it shock you to learn that your shalafi has blood on his hands?"

In truth, Alvar's violent tale had shaken Rosina, for while she understood that the Head of the Order of Black Robes would most likely have to take lives at some point in his career, Rosina had never actually observed her gentle, patient master behave in so brutal a fashion. But she was not about to give Alvar the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten to her. "I was simply surprised that violence could occur at the Tower. Doesn't the Peace of Wayreth apply?" she coldly replied.

Alvar scoffed. "Certainly not to outsiders who invade the Tower. No, the Peace of Wayreth as applied to the Tower of Palanthas simply means that we can't do anything to each other. Master Dalamar, however, has the power of life and death over all in the Tower, including his students. He could kill any one of us like that -" Alvar snapped his fingers - "with complete impunity, should an apprentice annoy him enough." He looked directly at Will, who rolled his eyes.

"I doubt anything short of treason would cause our shalafi to invoke that particular clause of our apprentice oath."

"You've skirted dangerously close to that tonight," Thomas murmured.

"You worry too much," Will answered. "When we return, Master Dalamar will have stern words for me, set me to some unpleasant task, and then let the matter pass. Despite rumors to the contrary, our master is not an unreasonable man."

The carriage slowed and then stopped. Rosina's stomach lurched at the thought of leaving the relative safety of the conveyance to face a potentially hostile and most likely drunken mob. But she drew in her breath and composed herself, and when she gracefully descended (last, according to her status as newest student) she held her head high with all the pride of an apprentice of the Tower and the unacknowledged daughter of its Master.


	2. Chapter 2

The smell of smoke and diverse foods cooking mingled with the salty air of the Bay of Branchala. Minstrels, drummers, and pipers worked the gathering, their music seamlessly blending with the noise of the crowd, the crashing of the waves, and horses' hooves. The household of Lord Dalamar - and it was lord, not master, this night - was seated around a large oaken table on the edge of but well within the area reserved for nobility. All of the important guests had their own tables or pavilions, the immediate environs marked off with brightly colored coats of arms. Four black pennants marked the four corners of Dalamar's section of the square. Torches lit up the entire market square of Palanthas, at an attempt at regularly spaced intervals. Solinari was full and Lunitari was waxing three quarters. The night was cloudless, and the stars glittered like diamonds in the sky.

Dalamar and Jenna set in high-backed chairs at opposite ends of the table. The apprentices were seated on wooden benches - Rosina and Thomas on one side, and Will, Alvar, and Jerron on the other. Rosina and Will were closest to Jenna. Food and drink were provided by servers hired by Dalamar specifically for this evening, as no one in Lord Amothus' household was willing to approach the dark wizard.

All in all, Rosina mused, things had not gone too badly. True, there had been a few hisses and more than one Palanthas denizen making the sign against evil as they passed, but most simply gave them a wide berth, and a fair number of people had come up to greet them. Most surprising was the sermon delivered by the High Clerist, Crysania, who praised the heroes of Palanthas throughout its history and included Lord Dalamar in the list. Rosina had stolen a glance at her master and could tell from his raised eyebrow that he had not expected such a commendation from such a surprising source. The reputation of the Tower would indeed benefit from this night.

"My lord." Rosina started as a figure emerged from the shadow behind her master's chair. An old woman, clad in a drab gown and hooded gray cloak approached Dalamar in a manner so ingratiating it was almost mocking. "Would you like to know what your future holds? For a few mere silver pieces, I can reveal all."

"My good woman, are you proposing to tell my fortune?" Dalamar responded in a tone both incredulous and amused.

"All is revealed in the palm of your hand to one who knows how to read it," the old woman answered.

"And I presume you are such a one?" Dalamar asked dryly.

"Oh, indeed I am, my lord. And I am willing to share that knowledge - for a very small fee." The fortune teller smiled, revealing gaps in her mouth where she had lost teeth. "Of course, not all are brave enough to face their future..."

At that Dalamar laughed outright. He glanced over to Jenna. "What say you, my love? Shall we brave a glimpse into our future?"

"Oh, why not? She's the only entertainer willing to come near us all evening."

"I am no mere entertainer, my lady," the old woman interjected in an offended tone. "I can peel back the very fabric of time that shields the present from the future, access forces beyond the ken of mere mortals..."

"Such as ourselves?" asked the black-robed wizard at the head of the table.

"Indeed, my lord. There are mysteries in this world than even your kind know."

Will broke in, "I would love to know my future. How much, good woman?"

"Just three copper pieces, young sir. Surely that's not much to ask for the revelation of your very fate?"

"Not at all," Will grinned, as he reached into a pouch on his belt.

"I'm in," chimed Alvar, as he too pulled out several coins.

"I want my fortune told, Mistress," Rosina called out, as she felt for her purse.

"Put away your coins, apprentices," Dalamar said, smiling. "This shall be my treat."

"This is ludicrous, Master," Jerron protested. "Surely the woman is nothing but a charlatan."

"You should show more respect for your elders, apprentice," the Master of the Tower scolded, with a twinkle in his eye. "I, for one, am curious what the future holds for every member of my household." He produced five gold coins, more than enough to cover the fortune teller's fee. "You may start with my lady," he said to the old woman, indicating Jenna.

"Thank you, my lord. You are most generous." The woman bobbed a curtsy as she took the coins. She walked to the other side of the table, where Jenna extended her hand.

"Oh, lady, you are an ambitious one, aren't you?" the fortune teller murmured. "Fame, fortune, knowledge, a dangerous lover - you want it all."

"And shall I receive my heart's desires?" Jenna smiled.

"Yes, indeed. You shall have everything you ever wanted - and shall despair of it, for it will bring you naught but unhappiness. Yours shall be a cold, loveless, lonely life."

The shopkeeper snatched her hand back. "How dare you?"

"It appears, my dear, that this woman is in the employ of your father," Dalamar said in a light tone. The sorceress smiled, but Rosina was close enough to see the anger in her eyes.

"I am in no one's pay but yours, my lord," the fortune teller protested. "I only tell you what I read of the future. I cannot be blamed if the truth is not to the lady's liking."

"My turn now," Will said cheerfully, trying to break the tension.

The old woman took his hand. "Well, now, let's see. You're the curious sort, aren't you? You spend your days reading ancient tomes of writers long dead to understand the mysteries of the universe."

"An apprentice mage who reads old books," muttered Jerron. "Remarkable."

"Hush now," snapped the fortune teller. "I shall get to you in your turn. As for you," she smiled at Will, "the answers you seek are not where you now look. Hark not to the voices of the past, but to those who speak today. Your fate lies along an unexpected path."

Will nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Mistress." She beamed and patted his hand.

The fortune teller then passed to Alvar. "You love adventure too much, I think." She smirked. "It must be hard to serve two such ruthless masters."

Alvar shifted uncomfortably. "I have only one master, and he sits at the head of this table. And your characterization of him is unjust. Anyway, aren't you supposed to reveal our futures?"

"To arrive at the future one must begin at the present. Don't fret so. You shall have your happy ending, at least for a while."

"And now for you, sir," she said, turning to Jerron.

"Master, this is ridiculous," Jerron protested, turning toward Dalamar.

"As it is ridiculous, there is nothing to fear," the wizard returned. "But it is only a game. You needn't participate if you don't wish it."

"You'll simply be remembered as in Tower lore as the apprentice who feared a charlatan," Alvar said slyly.

Jerron held out his hand and growled, "Get it over with, old woman."

The fortune teller grabbed his hand and squeezed it, hard. "You are very proud of your accomplishments, aren't you? Some would call it arrogance. Although," she added grudgingly, "I suppose you have the right to be. Your achievements are impressive. Know this, arrogant sir." She leaned in and looked Jerron in the eye. "The son shall be greater than the father." Jerron hissed in anger and pulled his hand away. Rosina glanced in surprise at both Thomas and Will, but they shrugged their shoulders. Neither knew any more than she the reason for Jerron's reaction.

"Very well, Mistress, and what do you predict for me?" Dalamar asked smoothly. Easy amusement lay on his countenance, but Rosina could see a subtle anger in his eyes.

The old woman took his hand, but didn't bother to glance at it. "I see darkness," she intoned. "You are surrounded by darkness. Darkness and solitude shall be your living tomb."

Jerron rolled his eyes and both Alvar and Will scoffed openly. Jenna ruefully observed, "You were right, my love. This witch must be in the pay of my father."

"Please forgive these skeptics, my good woman," Dalamar said, slightly mocking. "But you must admit that your prediction is a bit...predictable...for the Head of the Order of Black Robed mages, and is perhaps vague."

"You wish specifics, my lord? Very well. You are a secretive man who prefers to hide in the shadows. Yet before the atenouxtion of your own moon, one of your darkest secrets shall be revealed."

"Indeed," Dalamar murmured, locking eyes with the fortune teller. Her fierce glare in return was almost akin to hatred. "I look forward to seeing if this prediction of yours comes true."

"May I continue, my lord?"

"I'm not sure is I should let you," the wizard replied. "Your fortunes thus far have not been entirely...pleasant."

"Hey, we had to go through it," Jerron protested.

"And I, for one, am dying to learn of Thomas' and Rosina's deepest, darkest secrets," Alvar grinned wickedly at the students across the table from him.

"I am willing, Master," Thomas said. "For courtesy's sake, we should allow her to finish."

"Very well," the lord of the Tower responded. He caught the old woman's arm as she turned to walk around him. "Have a care, Mistress. I am watching."

"I should expect nothing less," the fortune teller simpered. He released her, and she continued around to Thomas.

"A pleasant evening to you," Thomas greeted her politely as she took his hand.

"And to you, young sir," the fortune teller beamed. "I can tell you are a sweet boy, such a good boy...Oh, but look at this." She indicated his palm. "This is your life-line. Look how short it is. I'm afraid, dear, that you're not long for this world."

There were gasps around the table at this blunt pronouncement. "Do you wish me ill, then, Mistress?" Thomas asked with quiet dignity.

"Not at all, young sir. I merely read what is already written."

Rosina leaned over to Jenna and whispered, "I thought fortune tellers never predicted the death of their customers, that..." The sorceress held up a hand, forestalling further conversation. She was staring at the old woman with intense concentration. Rosina realized with a start that Jenna was trying to read her, and from the shopkeeper's frustrated look, wasn't having much success.

"That is enough," Dalamar said in a low, quiet voice that all of his apprentices had learned to fear. He rose to his feet. "You come here, insulting my household and threatening my apprentices. Who are you? What is your business here?"

"My lord, I mean no disrespect. I am but a poor widow-woman who makes my living as I may, using the gift the gods have given me. Surely there is no harm in my little ramblings to a great one such as yourself.

"Now, dearie, it's your turn," the old woman turned her toothless grin toward Rosina.

"I said that's enough!" Dalamar snapped. He glanced at Jenna, who gave a slight shake of her head. Rosina suspected Jenna was still trying to read the fortune teller, but needed more time.

"Master, I am willing," Rosina said steadily. She fought the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach at her own words, for in truth the student mage wanted nothing to do with this interloper. But perhaps this would buy Jenna and her master more time.

Dalamar gazed at his youngest student for a long time. Then he nodded curtly. "Proceed." The black-robed wizard seated himself and stared intently at the old woman, resting his elbows on the table and placing the tips of his fingers together.

"There, now, poppet, I wouldn't have left you out for the world," the fortune teller grinned. "Now give me your hand."

Slowly, Rosina extended her right palm, but the woman snatched both her hands and held her fast. The fortune teller glanced down in a cursory manner. "You have a very long life line." She looked back at Dalamar. "You see, my lord? Nothing to fear." Turning once again to look at Rosina's hands, she murmured, "I've never seen such a long life line in a human before. Do you have elven blood, my poppet?" With a frightened glance at her father, Rosina shook her head.

The old woman caught her eye and smiled. _She knows!_ thought Rosina. The woman's brown eyes pierced Rosina's and held her fast.

"Do you know who you are?" the fortune teller whispered. Rosina felt the skin on her back crawl. She would have shuddered, but the student mage couldn't move. She had the sensation of an invisible net being woven about her, a sense of being imprisoned in gray smoke.

"Such a fair rose to have sprung from a poisoned oak. You have traveled far, but will travel farther than you can imagine. The truth is within your grasp." Rosina realized, without knowing how she knew, that _she_ was the reason the fortune teller had come. The rest had simply been for show.

Rosina knew that her master, the head of his order, was at the other end of the table, and that her mentor, a powerful red robed sorceress, sat only a few feet away. Not to mention that Rosina was surrounded by four skilled mages. And yet she was held captive by this strange woman, was at her mercy. The young mage willed herself to pull her hands away, to close her eyes, to flee the table, to scream...but she couldn't move and no one could help her. Rosina could only listen.

"To claim your power, you must go back to the beginning. You were created in betrayal, and violence surrounded your birth..."

"Enough," Dalamar's words cut through the smoke, and it was gone. The old woman smiled with an almost feral grin, and slowly let go of Rosina's hands. Still Rosina did not move. The fortune teller languidly backed away from Rosina, and insolently met the eyes of the black robed wizard who was now advancing on her.

"A good evening to you all, and my you enjoy the rest of the evening's festivities," the fortune teller cackled. She turned to go.

"You do not have my leave to depart," Dalamar said quietly. "I've a few questions for you."

"Oh, by all means, chase down a poor, frightened, helpless old woman in front of all Palanthas, _my lord!_ I'm certain it will do wonders for your reputation." She continued to back away slowly and confidently. The noise of the celebration echoed all around them.

"Do not think you will escape me," Dalamar warned.

"But I already have." With that, the fortune teller stepped beyond the light of the torches around the pavilion and disappeared into the crowd.

The wizard turned to his lover. "Did you manage...?"

"No. Did you?"

He shook his head slightly. He took a step toward the crowd, but Jenna rose and placed a hand on his chest. "I know your feelings, my love, but if you pursue her, sympathies will not be with you. It would be best to leave it for this night."

Dalamar's jaw tightened, but he said, "You're right of course, my dear. And after all, she did no real harm." With an angry swirl of his cloak, he stalked back to his seat.

Jenna returned to her own seat, patting Rosina reassuringly on the shoulder as she did so. Only now was Rosina released from her invisible prison. The young mage shuddered.

Jenna looked at her sharply. "Rosina, are you all right?" Observing the girl carefully for the first time since the arrival of the strange old woman, the sorceress murmured, "Why, child, you're as white as a sheet!" She touched the back of her fingers to Rosina's cheek. "And your skin is as ice!"

"I - believe I'm fine, Mistress," Rosina answered, her voice shaking slightly. What had happened? The spell had been lifted, but there had been no spell. As inexperienced as she was, Rosina knew she would have been able to detect magic, and the fortune teller had used no magic. "Were you able to get anything from her?"

"No," Jenna responded. Then she frowned. "Is that why you allowed the witch to prognosticate for you?"

Rosina nodded. "I thought it might help if you had more time." Rosina reached for her goblet with a trembling hand and took a sip of wine. The words of the fortune teller rang in her ears. Created in betrayal, surrounded by violence...?

"How very thoughtful of you," Jenna said drily.

"I meant no disrespect, surely."

"And I am not offended," the sorceress sighed. "I would not, however, have you risk yourself for matters that do not concern you."

Rosina looked down for a moment, staring into her goblet as if she could find the answers she so desperately sought floating in the wine. "I didn't realize there would be any great risk." She raised her head and looked directly into the shopkeeper's eyes. "And from what was said, I should think that matters very much concern me."

"Rosina, that creature was merely trying to stir up trouble for your master's household. Nothing she said can be trusted." Jenna took Rosina's hand in her own. "Listen to me, child. Do not think any more on what that woman said to you. Put it out of your head!" The sorceress' tone was insistent. The young mage was grateful for Jenna's concern, although a bit frustrated that the sorceress is snot seem to understand. Well, how could she, when Rosina didn't understand herself? Rosina had a good life now. So why was she so driven to find answers to the mystery of her past?

"And what have you ladies concluded?" Dalamar asked pleasantly from the other end of the table. The sudden silence alerted Rosina that an animated conversation had gone on between her master and the other apprentices while she and Jenna had been speaking to each other in lowered voices. There could only have been one theme.

"Just the obvious," Jenna answered. "The witch was intent on stirring up strife in your household. Whether she was a lone malcontent who had picked up enough rumors to cause trouble or part of a larger conspiracy is impossible to say at the moment."

"And it seemed that she was just making things up," Alvar chimed in.

"Hm." Dalamar's tone was noncommittal. His eyes rested for a long moment on his youngest apprentice. Rosina knew he was burning to question her about her encounter with the fortune teller, and Rosina just as desperately wanted her master's insights, but neither was willing to conduct the interview in public. That conversation would have to wait.


	3. Chapter 3

Just then they were approached by another figure, a Solamnic knight. Rosina knew him, although she was surprised to see him here. Sir Daniel Uth Arden was in his late twenties, but had a self-effacing air that made him seem younger. He was fair-haired like most Solamnics, and his mustache never seemed to flow properly. He was wearing a blue velvet doublet over dark hose and a red cloak over that. His sword was peace-bound, unusual for knights in Palanthas, even at a celebration such as this one. He gave the impression of one ill at ease in his own skin.

Rosina knew him because of his frequent visits to Jenna's shop. Daniel never bought anything - no knight of Solamnia would - but he would always have some question or other for the shopkeeper regarding magic. And it was always Jenna he asked; if Rosina were minding the store, he would chat politely for a few moments and then take his leave. "Poor boy," Jenna had once sighed after he'd left. "So persistent and yet he doesn't stand a chance."

"So why doesn't he realize it?" Rosina had demanded.

"Oh, he realizes it," Jenna had replied. "He sees me as unattainable. That's why he keeps returning."

This night, Sir Daniel bowed low to the master of the Tower. His courtesy was flawless. Lord Dalamar was left no room to find even the hint of a slight. They exchanged pleasantries, and then to Rosina's surprise, Sir Daniel greeted Jerron by name. How did they know each other? After he had finished speaking with Jerron, the knight offered greetings to Will and then to Rosina herself. It was unusual for a knight to be on familiar terms with so many mages.

At last he turned to Jenna. Sweeping her a courtly bow, he extended his hand towards her. Her lips twitching slightly, the sorceress placed her hand in his. Daniel brought her fingers to his lips and then let go. "You look lovely this evening, Mistress."

"Thank you, Sir Daniel," Jenna smiled. She seemed amused. Rosina stole a look at her master. Dalamar sat with his fingers steepled and pressed against his lips, his face impassive. He stared intently at the pair across the table from him.

"May I have the pleasure of a dance with you this evening?" the knight asked the sorceress. Dalamar's eyes narrowed slightly.

"You don't mind, do you, my love?" Jenna queried sweetly to Dalamar. "I believe you mentioned you had no interest in such - what did you call it? - frivolity this evening.

"Of course not, my dear." The black robe waved his hand in an airy gesture. "Youth must have its way." He placed a slight emphasis on the first word.

Jenna pressed her lips together. She clearly did not like being referred to as a "youth." "Sir Daniel, I would be honored to dance with you." The knight helped her from her seat and with her hand on his arm, the two walked off into the night.

Silence reigned in the pavilion for a moment, and then all the apprentices save Rosina burst into laughter. Jerron and Alvar especially, but also Will, began mocking Sir Daniel. Rosina, annoyed, snapped, "Well, I think he was brave."

"Do you, apprentice? Think he was brave?" The too pleasant voice of their master cut through the merriment. Dalamar had remained silent and expressionless during the exchange among his apprentices until that moment. "Is it because he entered the lair of the evil wizard and rescued the fair lady from my wicked grasp?"

"No, of course not, shalafi. I only meant..." Rosina faltered.

"Yes?"

"I only meant that he was brave in coming to talk with us at all..."

"An occasionally horrifying prospect, I grant you. I've heard some of the debates you lot have amongst yourselves."

"No, I was referring..." Will kicked Rosina under the table. He put a finger to his lips. The student mage understood the implied message. "I meant nothing at all, master. I spoke without thinking."

The dark elf smiled and rose. "I require your assistance, apprentice." He came around to Rosina and extended his hand. "Let's put young Thomas' instruction to the test."

With that, Rosina suppressed a groan and both Alvar and Will chuckled softly. Even Thomas smiled. Thomas, the son of a baron, had offered to teach courtly dances to the other apprentices in preparation for this evening, and they'd all availed themselves of the opportunity to a greater or lesser extent. Rosina, for one, had not had any intention of actually dancing this evening, however; she'd not planned to step one foot from her lord's pavilion until the moment she was permitted to return home.

"Shalafi, please..."

"You cannot have meant to remain here for the entire celebration," her master chided with a twinkle in his eye. His voice hardened slightly. "This is not a request, apprentice."

Rosina swallowed, and took Dalamar's hand. He helped her rise from the bench, and glanced at the others. "That goes for the rest of you as well. I expect all of you," he looked directly at Will, "to make yourselves visible." With that, he led his youngest student beyond the light of the pavilion.

Rosina was acutely aware of the hostile gazes upon them as they walked toward the area cordoned off for dancing. The student mage realized suddenly that she had never walked the streets of Palanthas with her master before. On her own she attracted very little attention - not for nothing was Palanthas called the city of mages. But this night for the first time the young red robe felt it a dangerous thing to be the apprentice of Dalamar the Dark.

"You seem troubled, my apprentice," the dark elf observed.

Rosina tried for levity. "You do realize that this is the first time I've danced in public?" Her master's lips twitched slightly, but he stayed silent, waiting. "I'm unused to the level of malice that surrounds us this night," she confessed.

"Yes, I suppose I've long since become accustomed to having all eyes upon me. It matters little enough. But of course you have not yet had the opportunity to experience it as I have."

"Not yet?" Rosina was aghast.

Dalamar laughed softly. "There is less malice than you might imagine, young one. The bulk of the stares are mere curiosity, and while many fear me - and mine - very few bear us true enmity."

Rosina pondered his words. "And what of those that do? Should we not try to ameliorate their hatred?"

"Not all hatred is undeserved," the black-robe said quietly. He fell silent for a moment, then returned his attention to the apprentice at his side. "Besides, our continued _visible_ presence may yet cause the change you seek."

It didn't work with the fortune teller, Rosina thought, but she refrained from voicing her opinion. Not that it did much good for, as usual, Dalamar Nightson picked up on her thoughts. "Tell me, what impression did you have of our visitor? The one before your 'brave knight,' that is."

Rosina, used to her master's acerbic wit, felt no real sting in his barb, and focused on answering his question. "Well, she was clearly no street performer."

"That much is obvious," Dalamar replied with a hint of impatience. "What else did you observe?"

"Also obvious, but she clearly wishes us ill." She wished me ill, the student mage thought, though it seemed arrogant to state such an opinion. "She frightened me. There was a power about the woman I did not recognize."

Dalamar nodded thoughtfully. He did not seem displeased with his apprentice's observation. "She did indeed seem to possess a vendetta, but I can only speculate as to the nature of it. You speak of power. How so?"

"Magic of a sort, although nothing I recognized. When she spoke with me I felt trapped, at her mercy." The young red robe shuddered again at the memory.

The wizard placed his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. "You were never truly at the mercy of that creature, young one. I would not have allowed her to harm any of you. It was careless of me even to have permitted her insults." His tone turned speculative. "If you feared her, then why did you give your consent to have her predict your future?"

"I suspected that Jenna wished to read the fortune teller, so I wanted to give her more time."

Dalamar stopped so abruptly that Rosina nearly stumbled. He turned her to face him, his hands on her shoulders.

"In future, apprentice, please do not offer yourself up for sacrifice unless I expressly ask you to do so."

His tone was solemn, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes, and so Rosina smiled ruefully when she answered, "Yes, shalafi."

Her master nodded once, placed her hand on his arm again, and they resumed their walk. Rosina could hear music in the distance. They would arrive soon, and Rosina would not have a chance to ask her questions. But it was Dalamar who resumed the conversation.

"The woman was clearly no mage. I would have known if she were. But you did indeed sense a power about her. That one is used to command. She has a compelling presence, one that led you to believe you were in her power. It was likely that you sensed."

"Shalafi," Rosina began hesitantly, "the things she said..."

"Were meant to upset you," Dalamar cut in smoothly. "Pay her no heed."

Rosina knew the tone in her master's voice, knew that she should stop, but taking a deep breath plunged ahead despite that. "What did she mean by 'created in betrayal, violence surrounded my birth'...?"

Dalamar raised an eyebrow at the impertinence of the apprentice least accustomed to defy him. He shrugged, dismissing the matter. "The witch has an ear for gossip, and your orphaned state is a matter of public record." Rosina winced slightly at the casual way her own father referred to her as an orphan. "Doubtless she thought to prey on the insecurities of a parentless child. I trust, however, that you are far too intelligent to fall for such a ploy." His last comment was pointed, and Rosina heard the implied rebuke.

"Forgive me, my lord," she replied formally, her eyes lowered.

In a softer tone, Dalamar said, "The matter is concluded for now. We have no further need to discuss it.

"But see here. We have arrived at the dance."

The scene was impressive. A large field had been cleared to allow room for dancing. Wooden boards had been laid on the ground. There was not simply one group of musicians but several, spread far apart so as not to clash with one another. Multiple dances, ranging from courtly pavannes to more sprightly bransles, occurred simultaneously, and the space was large enough to accommodate them all. Hundreds of people from many races and all corners of Ansalon, all dressed in finery, gave themselves to the music. Rosina was surprised at the level of illumination - far more than the night sky or the torches ringing the dance should provide. She looked about and spotted the spell. Magical globes, cunningly hidden high in the trees surrounding the field, shed their light over the gathering.

"Shalafi," she murmured, and indicated the magical lighting.

"Ah, yes," her master replied. "Those are very well done indeed. Do you think you could replicate the effect?"

"Not on this scale, surely, but yes, I could."

"Excellent. Then you may demonstrate it during tomorrow's lesson." Rosina grinned at the challenge. This talk of magic was comforting, familiar. It was something she knew. Far safer than Solamnic politics, malicious fortune tellers, or the nagging mystery of her own dark past. Even safer than dancing.

Dalamar scanned the crowds and then smiled slightly. He led Rosina into the mass of people with an unerring purpose. Rosina noticed how even here the crowd seemed to part for her master. Again to her discomfort she felt the stares, some openly hostile, around her. She took an instinctive step back and tried to remove her hand from the dark elf's arm. He placed his hand over hers, keeping her by his side. Rosina felt ashamed of her own cowardice. She was truly devoted to her shalafi, and didn't want him to think she didn't want to be seen with him. It was just that she _didn't _want to be seen with him, at least not here. But she also felt that her master's dark reputation was undeserved, and she should not give in to those who maligned him. So with an apologetic glance at the wizard, she stepped closer to him. He looked down with a sardonic smile, and patted her hand.

"This shall do nicely," Dalamar said as he brought his apprentice to a stop. They stood on the edge of one of the more courtly dances, watching the couples weave in and out. There were several long lines of dancers, and Rosina suddenly spotted Jenna and Daniel in the second row.

"Shalafi, may I ask you a question?"

"You may," Dalamar responded with a hint of amusement.

"What is it you wish to accomplish here? I mean..." Rosina floundered awkwardly for a moment. She was treading on dangerous territory. All the apprentices knew their master was an intensely private man, and did not appreciate commentary upon his personal life. "Why not ask some lady present to partner you?"

"Because, my apprentice, a discourtesy to _you_ matters not at all." The wizard laughed softly as Rosina raised her eyebrows. "Observe and learn, young one." The music came to an end, and Dalamar guided Rosina into place. He seemed very particular about where they should stand, which was not in the same row as Jenna and Daniel. As far as Rosina could discern, that couple was not even aware of the presence of the dark elf.

As the strains of the next song began, Dalamar swept a courtly bow to Rosina, who remembered to curtsy. She didn't think anyone had ever bowed to her before. The student mage was relieved to discover that she knew this dance - it was one of the pavannes Thomas had taught her. The student mage didn't have to worry about shaming her master through her ineptitude. In point of fact, Rosina suspected that Dalamar could have guided her through the steps even if she hadn't known them, but she was glad he didn't have to do so.

Then it happened. One moment Dalamar was spinning his apprentice away from him, and the next Rosina found herself without a partner, as the black-robed wizard smoothly stepped in to take Daniel's place. Rosina could not but laugh - she couldn't say precisely how her master had accomplished the feat, and she'd been part of the maneuver. And she suddenly understood what the wizard had meant about discourtesy; Rosina was the only partner Dalamar could have chosen who would not have been offended by the slight.

The young sorceress glanced over to see Sir Daniel looking glum. She shrugged her shoulders, and with a rueful expression the knight nodded to her through the dancers and then turned and walked away. Dalamar and Jenna seemed unaware of anything around them; their eyes were locked on one another as they circled around in the steps of the dance.

Rosina decided to leave as well; her assistance was obviously no longer required. But no sooner had she reached the edge of the field than a young man newly arrived asked her to dance. The student mage realized that he had no idea who she was; as far as he was concerned, she was simply a maiden in a crimson gown. She allowed herself to be pulled back into the dancing, and ended up with three more partners until at last she faced a circle dance that defeated Thomas' more courtly lessons. She made her excuses and slipped off into the night.

Rosina meant to return to her master's pavilion, but she found herself turned around. She had not been paying attention when Dalamar had brought her out to the cleared field, and now she wasn't sure how to return.

The young sorceress looked around, seeking a familiar landmark. She'd inadvertently wandered from the main path onto a smaller one leading into a haphazard maze of tents set up b travelers come to Palanthas for the festival.

This was no place for a young woman to be walking alone. Oh, Rosina could take care of herself. When she was first brought to the Tower she had been taught the rudiments of magical self-defense, and Dalamar had not permitted her to leave on her own until she could prove to his satisfaction that she could indeed defend herself if the need arose. It had taken her over two weeks to learn the necessary spells, and she made sure to keep them fresh in her memory. However, Rosina knew that she looked like easy prey, and there was no point in tempting fate. She needed to find her way back to the relative safety of the crowds, and soon.

A hiss caught her attention. Spinning around, Rosina caught sight of movement at the edge of one of the farther tents. She could only make out the figure with the help of her elven eyesight, but she could see it was beckoning.

Then a soft, mocking voice came to her. "Don't be afraid, dearie. I mean you no harm." It was the fortune teller! Rosina felt a thrill of fear as she realized the old woman had not been speaking aloud.

"I have the answers you seek," the gray-clad figure continued, her voice sounding only in Rosina's head. "Come." She beckoned again.

Rosina knew she should flee. She could not handle the fortune teller on her own. And yet she felt rooted to the spot. Grimly, the young woman forced herself to turn to go.

"I knew your mother." The words snaked themselves around Rosina's heart, turning her around again. "You want to know who she was, don't you? Your father -" the word dripped with contempt - "will never tell you the truth. Come with me, poppet, and all will be revealed."

Every instinct in the young sorceress told her to run, to ignore the honeyed trap of the truly dangerous woman who even now was slowly retreating behind a canvas tent into the gloom. Every fiber in Rosina's being warned her that there would be no turning back if she gave so much as a moment's time to this treacherous creature.

She took a deep breath...and followed.


	4. Chapter 4

Rosina carefully stepped over the taut diagonal ropes holding the tents and pavilions in place, all the while keeping a sharp eye on her guide. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, but grimly she continued on. By the gods, she would know her own past!

The fortune-teller emerged from the maze of tents into a dark clearing and settled herself down on a tree stump. Rosina, with her elven eyes, noted the presence of another figure in the tree line behind the old woman. The student mage stopped at the edge of the last tent and would go no further. She was careful not to lock eyes with the mysterious woman in gray.

The old woman chuckled. "Not afraid of me, are you, dearie?"

Coldly, Rosina replied, "You said you had information for me. What is it?"

"Tsch, so direct. Come sit beside me and we'll have a nice chat."

"Speak, or I'm gone."

"No need to take that tone with me, poppet." The old woman rose, showing far more grace and confidence than she had in Dalamar's pavilion. The "fortune teller" obviously saw no reason to continue her disguise in front of Rosina. The young sorceress did not move as the older woman approached. "We should be friends, you and I." She moved as if to place her hand on Rosina's shoulder.

"Don't touch me," Rosina snapped. The fortune teller stopped, extended her hands, and mockingly stepped back.

"As you wish." Her tone was amused.

"Since you brought me here merely to toy with me, I shall take my leave." With a mocking bow of her own, Rosina began to back away.

"Are you so certain you can leave?" The fortune teller's smile became threatening. Rosina was acutely aware that any help was far beyond earshot and that no one knew where she was. She cursed herself for a fool. "Do you really wish to test your powers against mine, girl?

"But I don't mean to upset you. That's the furthest thing from my mind," the old woman spoke in a cajoling voice. "Please stay, and I'll tell you about your mother."

"Then speak," Rosina answered icily. She refused to show the fear she was feeling.

The fortune teller chuckled again. "First, why don't you tell me what you already know? What has your father told you?"

"I am an orphan, as I suspect you are already aware. I have neither father nor mother."

"Oh, he's not much of a father, certainly, but you do live under his roof." Rosina went cold. There were only three people alive who knew that secret. How could the fortune teller have discovered the truth?

"You even have the look of him," the old woman murmured. She reached out as if to snatch away the filigree net from Rosina's hair.

"I said don't touch me," Rosina hissed, and murmured the words of a spell. The air crackled around her, and the old woman drew back her hand with a cry of pain. The student mage grimly brought the words of another spell to mind.

But far from responding with anger, the woman in gray seemed pleased. "The little one has fangs. I am happy to see it." With a swirl of her cloak, she returned to her perch on the tree stump.

"Why don't I tell you about your life, and you tell me if I'm right or not?" Rosina didn't respond, but she didn't leave either. "You live in your father's tower, the least of his apprentices. He ignores you most of the time, except to manipulate you for his own ends. You strive for his approval but you will never be able to earn it. That you are his daughter means to him that you are his, but he feels no real affection for you. It is his wish, not yours, that you keep silent about your identity. And he tells you nothing, absolutely nothing, about your mother or what happened to her.

"Have I hit the mark?" the old woman grinned.

"On the contrary, you've fallen quite wide of it," Rosina said coldly. "You malign my master and obviously know nothing of my parents." In truth, the fortune teller had come uncomfortably close to Rosina's own feelings. Dalamar Nightson was not what one would consider paternal. He rarely acknowledged the connection between them, even in private. Rosina knew that in her father's eyes she was simply another apprentice. Of course, for the dark wizard that was significant indeed, and the young half-elf had benefited greatly from his teachings. And she could, on occasion, win his approval. But she often suspected she was little more than an afterthought, and would have wished for at least a small claim on her father's affections.

Nor did she have anywhere else to turn. Any questions about her mother were met with icy dismissals, and Rosina had long since learned not to ask.

"You're not as alone as you might think, poppet," the old woman said. Rosina started, and then narrowed her eyes. Had the fortune teller read her thoughts? To do so, she would have had to penetrate the student mage's mental shields, which were not inconsiderable. "Your mother died too early, but her people would still have you. _We_ would still have you."

There was a predatory gleam in the eyes of this woman in gray that gave the lie to the kind sentiments expressed. The young sorceress wanted none of it, and silently cursed her own curiosity. "From what I've seen, I would not have you," she replied haughtily.

"You prefer to be under the protection and care of the black-robed master of the Tower?" the old woman scoffed. "You'd do better to fear him."

"I respect my _teacher_," Rosina returned coolly. "Dalamar Nightson is one of the greatest wizards of the age. He treats all of his apprentices fairly. He took me in when I had no place else to go. And unlike some," Rosina's scornful glance left no room for doubt as to whom she referred, "he means me no harm."

The woman in gray let out a short laugh. "He certainly harmed your mother. He's the reason she's dead."

Rosina felt the shock of the words as though they were a blade of ice slipped between her ribs. "You lie!"

"I do not. Ask yourself this, poppet. If I have been right about everything else, might I not also be right about this?"

The young mage swallowed nervously. Could it be true? It might explain her master's refusal to speak about her mother. And if it were true, what did that mean for Rosina herself?

"Have you any proof of this?" she demanded.

The fortune teller smiled mockingly. "And you call yourself a scholar. The proof is within your grasp. Do you not live across the square from the Great Library of Palanthas?"

The Great Library of Palanthas, where the history of Krynn was kept. Where every birth and death was recorded. Rosina could not believe it had not occurred to her before to search the Library for answers.

Still, Rosina did her best to hide her thoughts from this mysterious woman. "Those sections of the Library are not open to everyone. Should I just march in and demand to see my birth records?"

"You're a resourceful young woman. I'm sure you'll think of something." In truth, Rosina's mind was already racing ahead. She had done extensive research in the Library before - all the apprentices had. It only required a note from her master...

"And I should look where, precisely? At all of the births that took place on Krynn seventeen years ago?" Rosina asked sarcastically.

"You're not as young as all that, half-elf. You'll need to go back a few years earlier, to the time of your birth. Nice try, though.

And you don't need to look at all Krynn. You were conceived here in Palanthas." The fortune teller nodded as she saw Rosina's eyes widen at that.

"Of course," the woman in gray continued, "you needn't go through all that trouble. Leave the Tower. Come with me now to my home. Trust me and you will know the truth." She rose abruptly, and her hand snaked out to grab the young sorceress.

Rosina jerked away and fled. She tripped over a tent rope in her haste but caught herself and kept running. She ran until she could no longer hear the mocking laughter that rang out behind her.

Back in the clearing, a figure detached itself from the tree line and approached the old woman. He gave a brief bow. The old woman did not glance his way.

"Why did you let her go, m'lady? You could have grabbed her here and taken her with us. She did not have the power to stop you."

"She is more valuable to us as an accomplice than as a captive. We need her to come to us of her own free will."

"Will the information you gave her be sufficient? She could easily arrive at the wrong conclusion."

"So much the better for us, then," the old woman snorted. "She will learn the truth or she will make the predictable error. Either way, when I'm through with the girl, she will have nowhere else to go."

She turned at last to look at the newcomer. "You might be interested to know that my time with the dark elf's household was most productive. Rosina might not be our only prize this night."

The man laughed at that. "Excellent. As always, your work is most impressive, m'lady."

"Remember that, boy, the next time you try to replace me." So saying, the woman muttered a few arcane words under her breath, and they both vanished.

Rosina ran until she was out of breath. Frantically she looked behind her to ascertain that she'd not been followed. What in the Abyss had she been thinking? It had been sheer folly to engage with the fortune teller.

She was still lost within the haphazard maze of tents. In the name of the gods, would this night never end? It was late enough that a few people were returning to retire for the evening. Even though they looked askance at the obviously distraught young woman in red wandering unaccompanied in their midst, Rosina felt heartened by their presence. At least she was not entirely alone.

She took a deep breath and looked for a path back to the main celebration. She ducked around several pavilions, and was startled to hear someone call her name. Heart pounding, the student mage turned, preparing to defend herself if necessary.

She was shocked to see Sir Daniel. "Rosina? What are you doing here?" He took one look at her face and asked in a concerned tone, "Are you all right? Did something happen?"

"I'm fine," she answered. From Daniel's grim expression, Rosina deduced he was still skeptical. "I fear I've gotten lost." She winced slightly at the admission. "May I ask a favor?"

"I would of course be happy to escort you back to your master's pavilion," Daniel answered, anticipating her request.

"Thank you. It was foolish of me to have failed to pay attention to where I was going in the first place. I would not impose on you, except - "

Daniel cut her off. "You should not be out here on your own. It's not safe, especially now. Had you not asked for my assistance I would have insisted." Rosina bristled slightly at the rebuke, but she was still shaken from her encounter with the mysterious fortune teller and was not sorry for Daniel's unexpected company. "There's something of a path up ahead that leads to another that will take us to the main thoroughfare." He gestured for her to precede him.

They spoke little during the long walk back, for which Rosina was relieved. It gave her time to organize her thoughts. What was she to tell her lord? She knew she should tell him about her encounter with the fortune teller, but had little doubt that he would be angry with her for speaking with a known enemy, and no doubt at all that he would forbid her from seeking answers to her own origins - and her father's history.

No, it would be better to stay silent. As Rosina resolved to keep this secret she felt a wave of both guilt and fear wash over her. Guilt, for Dalamar had been nothing but kind to her and she owed him her loyalty. Fear, for she was after all contemplating crossing the head of the order of black robes. But by the gods, she had a right to know who she was!

When they came within sight of Dalamar's pavilion, Rosina stopped and turned to thank Daniel. He smiled and shook his head. "I will see you safely back in your lord's care."

"Sir Daniel," Rosina began awkwardly, "it might be a bit - uncomfortable - for you to speak with Lord Dalamar again this night."

"If it is, I have no one but myself to blame," Daniel answered wryly. He looked thoughtfully at Rosina. "But I thank you for your concern." It took the young mage a moment to realize that the knight was genuine in his gratitude, that there was no hint of sarcasm in his tone. Rosina had become accustomed to the casual mockery of her shalafi, her mentor, and most of the other Tower apprentices. But Sir Daniel never mocked, never spoke down to anyone, and always addressed Rosina by name. It was refreshing. Rosina would never dare ask, but she wondered if Jenna might not on occasion see Sir Daniel as an endearing change from the Master of the Tower.

"Let's get this over with, then," Rosina said, and they continued to the pavilion.

The candles on the table had gone out, giving the pavilion and eerie, abandoned mood. There was no sign of the other apprentices. Rosina briefly wondered what they were doing. She was able to make out a figure seated in her master's chair. "Shalafi," she murmured, folding her hands in her sleeves and bowing.

Daniel started as the wizard rose, and Rosina realized the human knight had not seen anyone in the dark. He recovered quickly and bowed low.

"Sir Daniel," the dark elf said pleasantly, "I had not expected to see you so soon, and in the company of a different lady of my household than the one you spirited away earlier this evening."

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord," Daniel said, not meeting the wizard's eyes. "I came across your apprentice, who was lost and fleeing something." Rosina drew in her breath at that. She'd have preferred Daniel to keep silent on the matter. "As she was alone, I thought it best to escort her back to your protection."

Dalamar Nightson raised an eyebrow at this and glanced at this youngest apprentice. "Then I thank you for returning Rosina to me, Sir Knight. I am in your debt."

Hearing the dismissal in the dark elf's voice, Sir Daniel bowed again and took his leave of both mages.

"You're right; he is brave," Dalamar observed dryly. He motioned his student to come closer. "Were you harmed?" he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"No, shalafi, I am fine." When she saw that her master was not satisfied with her answer, she continued. "After I left the dance, I became disoriented and found myself among the visitor's tents." Seeing the look on Dalamar's face she added, "It was foolish of me to have failed to pay attention to where I was going."

"As well as dangerous. You should have stayed on the main path," he scolded. "You could have run into very unpleasant altercations indeed, with no one around to aid you." He paused, and in a gentler voice prodded, "The knight said you were fleeing?"

"An exaggeration," Rosina said dismissively. "I was walking quickly to leave the area when I came across Sir Daniel." Of course, it probably didn't help her case that Dalamar could feel her trembling beneath his hands on her shoulders.

"And Solamnic Knights are so prone to exaggeration," he observed sardonically. "Try again, girl."

Rosina hesitated. How much to reveal? "No one laid a hand on me. I was upset by malicious words, nothing more."

"Words you don't wish to repeat in my presence?" the wizard guessed.

"I'd really rather not, shalafi," Rosina answered earnestly. "I will if you order me to." Perversely, the student mage found herself almost hoping he would order her to speak. She knew she would not lie, and if nothing else it would relieve her of this burden.

"I won't press the issue, young one," he said. "So long as you are unhurt, there is no need.

"I must say, beyond your unfortunate lack of direction this evening, you have pleased me greatly. Despite your reluctance to be here, your comportment and cooperation have brought honor to the Tower." He kissed her on the forehead then, a rare show of affection. "I am proud of you, my daughter."

"Thank you, shalafi," she whispered. Rosina was surprised, gratified, and wracked with guilt. Perhaps she should tell him about her encounter...

Before the thought had time to completely form in her head she found herself asking, "If you have no further need of me, shalafi, with your permission I'd like to return home."

The wizard chuckled softly at the plaintive note in his apprentice' voice. "It is getting late. Very well. You may return to the Tower. I hope the evening wasn't so very terrible for you."

"Not so very terrible, sir," she admitted. Instead of the traditional apprentice bow, Rosina dropped her father a low curtsy in the Solamnic style. He smiled slightly in approval, and the apprentice mage stepped back into the shadows to recite the spell that would transport her home.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning all the apprentices were a bit worse for wear. Rosina had not slept well, and several of the other apprentices seemed to have imbibed more than was prudent, although with Jerron it was hard to tell as he was always surly. Rosina was not surprised that Dalamar had not canceled morning lessons, but she was in the minority. The three senior apprentices all failed the tasks assigned to them. Thomas managed his on the second try, and Rosina accomplished hers on the first, although it lacked finesse. She earned an expressionless "good" from her master and felt relieved. Dalamar dryly observed that the object of the day's lesson was to demonstrate the effects of overindulgence on a spell-caster's ability. Obviously displeased, he dismissed class then and excused his apprentices from that afternoon's lesson.

Rosina summoned up her courage to approach her master for a note permitting her access to the Library. She thought better of it when she saw the dark elf place a hand on Will's shoulder and say, "Not you, my apprentice." Will paled slightly as he sat back down, and Rosina wondered if he were not hung over but rather suffering from a sleepless night. After defying his master the previous evening he had reason to be nervous.

The student mage decided to wait until her master was in a better mood and turned to follow the other apprentices when she was called back. "You wished to speak with me, Rosina?" The wizard had seen her approach.

Rosina stammered her request and Dalamar granted it, noting as he wrote the letter on a sheet of cotton paper that it was a productive use of her time. He went so far as to suggest a book that might help her with the problem he assumed she was studying. He poured wax on the folded note and pressed his seal into it. Handing it to her he said, "Please close the door on your way out, apprentice." Bowing formally, Rosina left and did as she was bid.

The young red robe had no difficulty gaining access to the Library. The Aesthetic at the gate who took the note did break the seal to read it and then waived her on. Most aesthetics wouldn't have even bothered to do that, they were so used to seeing Dalamar's apprentices. And it was a small matter to duck left rather than right after ascending the first flight of stairs, to go to the histories rather than the scholarly treatises she was accustomed to study.

It was not until she came to the first great room of the histories that the magnitude of her task struck her. Out of the thousands of years of all Krynn's history she expected to find hidden details of her own birth?

Rosina swallowed, and then set about her work. It took her all morning and a fair bit of the afternoon, but she was able to find the room dedicated to Palanthas, and then find the tomes relating the city's history after the War of the Lance. It was maddening not to know her own birth date, although at least she had a general idea of her age. It was still no easy task, for every birth and death, every marriage and contract, every law passed and every proclamation, every decision any person ever made was recorded there. And Rosina had to skim all of it, hoping to catch a glimpse of her own name.

Dalamar Nightson's name was, unsurprisingly, mentioned frequently. Rosina, who knew her shalafi to be an intensely private man, felt another stab of guilt that she was, in essence, researching his past as well as her own.

It was not until late afternoon that Rosina found the passage that made her blood run cold. Her master - her father - and the blue lady had been lovers? Was it possible? The fortune-teller's words rang in her ears, and the student mage found herself trembling violently. Who was she? She couldn't be the blue lady's daughter, could she?

Rosina couldn't bring herself to read further. She couldn't bear the though of seeing her name linked to the villainous Kitiara uth Matar. The images conjured by Alvar's bloody tale rose before her; she knew what was coming. Her father had killed his own lover...her mother? Rosina quickly made the calculations and realized it was possible; no more than possible, likely. Dear gods, how could this be?

Rosina heard the chiming of the city bells and realized how late it was. The Library would close soon, and Rosina need to return to the Tower that had suddenly become much less of a refuge than it had been.

It took Rosina three days to decide that she could not keep what she had discovered a secret from her master, and to gather the necessary courage to speak to him. After that morning's lesson, the young mage hesitantly approached the dark elf's desk as the other apprentices filed out.

"May I have a moment of your time, Shalafi?" Rosina asked quietly.

"Of course, apprentice. What is it?" The wizard did not so much as glance up from what he was doing.

"Forgive me, Shalafi. May I speak with you in private?" Dalamar did look up at that, and the trepidation in the pale face of his youngest apprentice caught his full attention.

"Certainly, child." He rose fluidly, and with gentle hand on Rosina's back, he guided her to a small room behind the laboratory where the apprentices had their lessons.

Rosina turned to face her master, her hands folded in the sleeves of her robe and her eyes downcast. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest and her mouth was dry.

"You wished to tell me something, young one?" the wizard asked gently, his voice concerned.

"I-" Rosina stammered, and then took a deep breath. "I know who my mother is."

The change was instantaneous. Dalamar angerly gestured with one hand and the door slammed shut on its own, while he grasped the front of the robe of his startled apprentice with the other and roughly shoved her into a high-backed wooden chair. "What do you know and who have you told?"

The young woman was too stunned to speak. "Answer me!" the dark elf's voice rose as he shook her.

"I - no one, my lord. I've told no one!"

"And what is it you think you know?" the back-robe sneered.

"Please, Shalafi," she whispered. "I did not mean to anger you."

"A bit late for that now. You will answer my questions, apprentice!"

In a small voice, she replied, "I know my mother was Kitiara uth Matar."

"_What?_" Abruptly Dalamar released the robe of the frightened girl before him and turned away. He stalked to the window and was silent for a moment. Rosina though he did not really want an answer. Then the dark elf began to laugh. It was hard, cruel, humorless laughter, and was unlike anything the student mage had heard from her master before. What had she done? And what would happen to her now?

"And where, pray tell, did you hear this fascinating tidbit of scurrilous gossip?"

"In the Great Library, Shalafi. I was -"

"Don't call me that!" the wizard snapped, turning on her. Then he paused. "Tell me, my apprentice," Dalamar spoke in a deceptively gentle voice. "How did you manage to come to this conclusion in the Library?" He held her gaze then, a snake hypnotizing his prey.

"I went to the Library with the intent to research my origins, sir," the young half-elf whispered.

"Under _my_ seal?" Dalamar asked incredulously. "You not only disobeyed me by seeking out your mother's identity, but you deliberately deceived me. _You_ manipulated _me_. You pried into my past..."

"I had not thought of it like that, sir. I meant no disrespect!" Rosina was truly frightened.

"You hadn't thought at all," the black robed wizard answered coldly. "What possessed you to take this course of action? What made you think to look in the Library in the first place?"

Rosina closed her eyes. She knew her answer would infuriate her master, but to stay silent would be worse. "I followed the lead given to me by the fortune teller."

"I heard every word she said to you! She gave you no information you could use to track anything."

"I spoke to her afterwards, sir," she murmured, still not looking up.

Dalamar's eyes widened. "You spoke to her _after_ that? And you didn't tell me?" He let out a short laugh. "_That_ was the encounter you didn't wish to discuss with me."

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

"So you consort with my enemies, plot to betray me..."

"It wasn't like that, sir!" As badly as Rosina had feared this conversation would go, she had never imagined the depth of her master's - no, her father's - anger towards her.

"It was exactly like that, you little fool," the black robe snapped. "Do you have any idea what you have done? You'd have done better to refuse to speak to that witch when you saw her next, and to have told me immediately that she tried to approach you." Rosina felt tears well up in her eyes. She felt terribly guilty, but hurt too at the unjust accusations. "I can no longer trust you." There was anger in Dalamar's voice, but also sorrow. "You betrayed me."

Rosina had been respectful up to that point. She was always respectful to her Shalafi, always loyal. But all of her fear, hurt and confusion caused something in her to snap. "Do you mean to kill me, then, like you killed my mother?"

His face a mask of rage, the black robed wizard drew back his hand to strike his daughter. "My lord!" Rosina cried out, truly shocked.

Visibly controlling himself, Dalamar snarled, "Get out, before I do something we'll both regret." He turned his back on her, his robes swirling about him.

A trembling Rosina slithered from the chair and hastened to the door, only to realize it would not open until the wizard released it.

"Rosina!" The young red robe flinched at the venom in her master's voice. "You have the run of the Tower, but are not to leave it until further notice." He muttered a few words under his breath, and the door sprang open. "Now go!"

"Yes, my lord," she murmured, and fled the room.

She ran up several flights of stairs, seeking to avoid any of the Tower denizens. When she decided she was alone, the young sorceress sank down on the steps and began to weep. How had matters gone so terribly awry? She had never seen Dalamar Nightson like that. Her calm, gentle master - her father - had been prepared to strike her, and perhaps do worse. She shuddered at the hatred she'd heard in her Shalafi's voice when he'd spoken her name. One thing seemed certain. She no longer had his protection.

Rosina took a deep, cleansing breath. She had to focus on what she should do next. It was clear to the young mage that the Tower was no longer a safe refuge. She didn't know where she would go, but there was no longer a place for her here. Her life was not safe.

The student rose, and chanting the words of the spell taught to her by the man she now fled, disappeared from the Tower and into her unknown future.


End file.
